Adventures on the Lusitania
by Phox99
Summary: On board the airship Lusitania, two officers have a bit more than a working relationship. Chapter Summery: They have island all to themselves what could go wrong?
1. Why Pilots Shouldn't go to Parties

The party was the kind that he remembered hearing about when he was a boy. With richly dressed women in frilly ball-gowns, tiny food stuffs served on delicate silver trays by snobby overdressed Waiters, it seemed to rain champagne, and everyone there either had money or was related to it.

Not that all these things were necessarily bad of course, but he had never felt he belong at these kind of functions. Sure put him in a greasy room filled with engine parts and the hum of a well oiled machine, and he was in heaven. But drag, Lieutenant Alfred F Jones, out of his cozy engine bay, clean him up and force him into his official Air Defense Force dress uniform, and he was a bumbling ball of nerves.

Alfred sighed and pulled at the high collar of his navy blue jacket. Maybe it was because he never grew up with gilded ballrooms or a life of entitlement. Or maybe it was because he felt like a class traitor every time he had to go to one of these frivolous galas. Either way, he couldn't decline, he was an officer after all. It was times like these, that he really missed being a sergeant.

When he was a sergeant, he could oil engine parts to his heart's content and pilot his fighter plane without scrutiny. But he had been a hero one too many times, and the higher ups had thought it fitting. Thus, they pinned metals on his chest and a silver bar to his collar. Just like that, he had obligations to fulfill and people under his command. Which in all honesty, wasn't so bad; it at least meant the engine bay was run how he wanted it to be run.

He looked into the bubbling depths of what had to be his third glass of overpriced champagne. Then out to the ballroom filled with fancy music and twirling couples, and tried to remember what this party was for.

Something about one of the captain's old war buddies, a birthday perhaps or something along those lines. Alfred hadn't had the time to find out before he had been ordered to attend. And whatever this party happened to be for, it certainly didn't involve a whole lot of eating on anyone's part. Sure the dainty finger foods that floated by looked interesting but they were by no means filling. He wanted real food, and thought vaguely of trying to find the kitchens in search of such food.

Surely he could slip away unnoticed, find something substantial to eat, and then be back on board his airship before his captain even knew he was gone. The more he thought about this plan, the more it appealed to him. He was just about to make a run for it, when a slender hand caught hold of his elbow in a iron grip.

"And where to do you think you're going Lieutenant?" said a pretty young lady with brown hair.

Alfred tensed, "Just out for some air," he managed.

The young lady laughed, "Why would you want to do that for, Lieutenant…"

"Jones ma'am, Lieutenant Jones. " Alfred supplied.

The young lady brightened, a predatory gleam in her eyes that made Alfred cringe; for two reasons. One, being he wasn't overly fond of the I-just-might-make-husband of-you, air about her, and secondly, he just wasn't into girls that way. Besides he was already spoken for, they just weren't here.

_The lucky bastard…_

"Oh, Lt. Jones, you must share a dance with me. For it would be such a pleasure to have such a distinguished pilot such as yourself on my arm." She giggled once more and leaned towards him in a manner that could only be called seduction- trying- to- hard.

Alfred firmly, yet politely pulled his elbow away and took a small step back.

"That's very kind of you Misss...um…"

"Please call me Elizaveta, Lady Elizaveta."

"Ah," Alfred nodded, adjusting his glasses and trying to think of a, none-offensive way to extract himself from the current predicament.

"You see Milady−

"He's simply an atrocious dancer, Lady Elizaveta." Cut in a heavily accented voice, which made Alfred almost sag with relief. Oh, how sweet that voice sounded.

Alfred turned to his savior and smiled an overly grateful smile. The man was in the same uniform as Alfred. He had light blond hair which he had attended to slick back, and sharp emerald green eyes.

Lady Elizaveta shot the man a very unladylike glare and said her voice dripping with faned delight, "Why, Lord Kirkland, I was not aware that you were here. I was told by your captain that you were detained on the ship with some business that needed your attention."

Lord Arthur Kirkland bowed politely, and Alfred felt that he was caught between two titans, fervently wishing he could have just stayed on the airship.

"It's simply Lt. Kirkland, tonight lady Elizaveta, I am in uniform after all. Also you know as well as I, that the title Lord Kirkland belongs to my eldest brother."

Lady Elizaveta smiled coyly "Ah yes, how could I have forgotten that! However, that still does not explain your sudden arrival?"

"Well you see Lady Elizaveta, the business I had to attend to was taken care of rather quickly. And since I had the rest of the evening off I figured I might as well keep my fellow Lieutenant company. For I can see he's faring poorly enough without me."

"Hey!" Alfred interjected indignantly.

"Oh, how kind if you, thinking of your fellow officer," Lady Elizaveta began " but Lt. Jones and I were about to share a dance."

She glanced towards Alfred hoping he would confirm her statement. However, Alfred simply shook his head and bowed awkwardly. "I'm sorry milady, but I'm afraid Arth−I mean Lt. Kirkland is right, I'm not a very good dancer."

Alfred glanced sidelong at Arthur, who moved closer and patted Alfred's shoulder. Lady Elizaveta seemed to scents the silent conversation that passed between the two and heaved a resigned sigh.

"Alright, I can see when I am beaten." she said moving past the two lieutenants, "He's yours Lt. Kirkland."

The pair watched her disappear into the crowd of partygoers. Only when they could no longer see her did Alfred let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He turned to Arthur and smiled, "You honestly don't know how happy I am to see you right now."

Arthur raised an impressive eyebrow, "I believe I can hazard a guess."

Alfred gave a week chuckle and bumped his forehead against Arthur's, who flushed a light pink. "Not here Alfred."

He pulled back in nodded, glancing around for some place a little more secluded. Not that anyone in this day and age had a problem with homosexuality, or fraternizing amongst the ranks. No, the Air Defense Force didn't really who their personal of slept with in their free time. However, they did have rules regarding public displays of affection, and Arthur tended to be a private person.

The entrance to a balcony caught Alfred's attention, " Right, follow me."

Thankfully, the balcony was deserted and the night air not to cold. As soon as they were out of the sight of prying eyes, Alfred pulled Arthur into his arms and kissed him. Arthur wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck, kissing back, his fingers finding purchase Alfred's hair. They kept their kiss chase for someone could still walk in on them. When they eventually pulled apart Arthur playfully tweaked Alfred's cowlick.

"So are you doing here?" He asked. "Not that I'm not happy to see you here."

Arthur shrugged and brushed some imaginary dust Alfred's shoulders, "The same reason I gave to lady Elizaveta, also…" He coughed awkwardly and looked away from bespectacled lieutenant, "I find you look rather dashing in your formal dress uniform."

Alfred looked somewhat surprised, but recovered quickly an impish smile spreading across his face. Arthur shivered in a good way that the sight of that smile.

"You know what else this uniform looks good on?" he whispered into Arthur's ear.

"No, what?" Arthur replied almost sarcastically.

"The floor of your quarters."

Arthur smirked and Alfred glanced briefly over Arthur's shoulder. In the distance he could just make out the shape and lights from there airship.

"I do believe you are correct "

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><p>AN: This story is a collection of short stories, I wrote them for the USUK Summer Camp<p> 


	2. The Morning After

_**The Morning After…**_

The sun light filtered in through the round porthole window. The room underneath, was a neat room, the kind where everything had its proper place. But overlaid on the underlying tidiness were two sets of navy blue dress uniforms, their pieces scattered about the room; evidence to the fact that they were very hastily removed. Mostly prominently was the officers hat hanging from the bed post, hanging there like the conquering flag of an army.

Lt. Alfred F. Jones, stretched with a yawned, unable to quell the wide sated grin on his face. He sat propped up against the headboard, bear-chested and the blankets pooled around his waist. He had an arm around Lt. Arthur Kirkland, who was just as equally naked resting against his chest enjoying a post-coitus cigarette. His own hat set roguishly on his own head of wild blond hair, while a hand traced patterns onto Alfred's sink.

"So much better than some dumb ball!" Alfred said in a voice that conveyed all physical satisfaction.

Arthur chuckled, took the cigarette from his lips to blow out a line of blue-gray smoke.

"Glad you enjoyed it love." Arthur, said in that husky accent, that never failed to send a shiver down Alfred's spine.

"I always do, sweetheart." Alfred replied dropping a kiss to Arthur's temple.

"Do you think the Captain will mad that we skipped out on that party?" Alfred asked against his lover's temple.

He could almost hear those gem-green eyes roll, "Alfred, you know as well as I do that the Captain is probably so hung-over that he barely remembers what party he went to, let alone who was there."

Alfred gave a manly giggle, looked down at the man in his arms "I know just checking."

Arthur smiled, "Now love, do think you're up for another round before we have to report for the morning officers' meeting ,or did I wear you out last night?"

The pilot grinned the, and Arthur found himself pressed into his mattress with Alfred hovering over him before he could say bob's-your-uncle.

"I you know me babe, I'm always ready for you."

Arthur pressed out his cigarette on the bedside table, a confident smirk on his lips which Alfred always found sexy.

"Good to know love." He replied cupping Alfred's face.

Alfred's leaned into his lover's touch, his gaze softening bit, "You know I love you right?"

Arthur met that blue gaze, with his own , "I know, I love you to."

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><p>AN:I regret nothing ;D, Reviews are love guys! please and thank you!<p> 


	3. Why Pilots Shouldn't Sew

Lieutenant Arthur Kirkland wondered how he had gotten to this place?

The day had started off so nice too. The skies had been so clear that he could see for miles through his navigation scope. The Captain had ordered him to set- _The Lusitania-_ on a course for a nice quite port for once. His tea had been just the right temperature that morning. And he felt that such a day as this should be shared with one he happened to have very found feelings for. But this, this was something he was prepared for.

He had been about to knocked on the door to Lieutenant Alfred F Jones"s quarters, to only be met by a rather loud and very mechanical sounding bang. The door had blown its self outward, black smoke billowing out into the hall. And he had ducked just in time to avoid a miss directed cog, that had nearly taken off his head.

Arthur now sat on Alfred's unmade bed, legs crossed, arms folded over his chest, and trying hardest not to strangle the engineer sitting sheepishly on the work stool in front of him. Arthur rubbed his temples, willing his new head-ache to go away.

"So," Arthur began, "the reason behind your quarters exploding, again ,is because you were trying to darn your socks! Good God Alfred, if this was coming from anyone but you, I would not believe it!"

And the evidence was there. The rather menacing looking device setting on the Alfred's work table, there were spare parts littered about the room, and lastly what had once had been a much used holy sock was now nothing more than a pile of singed fibers. Arthur sighed; it was these types of things that kept him from wanting to be−um well imminent in Alfred's room. The place was a death trap, one wrong move, one misplaced article of clothing and the whole thing could blow; putting an end to a rather promising evening.

Alfred flinched slightly at Arthur's rant, and scratched nervously at the back of his head. "Well yeah, the way I figured it, was if I could invent a machine that would automatically fix the holes in my socks then it would make more than just my life easier! " Alfred's smile brighten the way it always did when he spoke of inventing or helping people, or even flying. But the smile shrank when it met with Arthur's cool gaze. "It seemed like a good idea at the time." The engineer added lamely.

"Alfred, you are an officer, you cannot go around doing things like, like this!" Arthur gestured the doorway, where the door, (with a sudden scent of the appropriate) fell off its hinge with a clatter. Alfred hissed at the sound, while Arthur merely drove his point home, "And if you needed your bloody socks fixed why didn't you trying sewing them like a normal person?"

"Because the last time I tried that I ended up sewing myself to them!" The engineer shout back childishly.

"Then why not buy new ones then? We get a wardrobe allowance as officers!" Arthur volleyed. Only to be met with stubborn silence, Alfred was pouting. And looking about the room, Arthur suddenly got the feeling that, maybe Alfred was more willing to spend money on new parts and mechanical bobbles than new socks.

Arthur found himself sighing again which he often did in Alfred's presents, "At the very least you could have asked me to mend them, I am quite skilled with a needle."

Alfred looked up the very picture of hopefulness; his face blackened his work goggles shoved up on his head making his hair stand every which way. "Really?" Those pitiful blue eyes boring in to him.

Arthur cursed himself "Yes, bring the lot by my quarters later after you've had a shower, and explained to captain why you need a new door…again."

The engineer cheered and launched himself at the man sitting on his bed, catching him in a rather tight i.e. bone crushing hug. "Thanks Artie you don't know how much that means to me!"

"Yes, yes your quite welcome, now would please go bath so that I can kiss you later and not taste axle grease."

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Just a short one today, more fluff! Thanks for reading and reviews are love!


	4. Why Pilots Shouldn't Fligh in Storms

The storm had literally sprung up out of nowhere, bringing with it driving rain, vindictive winds and that lighting blinded. It certainly caught the crew of The Lusitania, off guard and unawares. But while all non-essential crew had fled to the relative safety further blow deck, Lt. Arthur Kirkland stayed rooted to his he stayed to his post, keeping his spy-glass trained on the eastward sky. The sky grew more threatening with each passing moment, and the wind whipped about the air-ship, rocking the large vessel from side to side, causing the remaining crew-members on the bridge to cling to their consoles.

"Kirkland!" The Captain's voice boomed after a particularly violent flash of lighting, "If you don't spot Lt. Jones's squadron within the next three minutes were leaving them to fend for themselves, she can't take much more of this!"

A shivered of panic ran through Arthur.

"Aye, Captain," he responded out of protocol, without taking his attention away from the sky. _Where are you, git,_ he fretted internally.

But the sky remained empty, of all signs of life. The storm mocked them, tossing the ship about but stop just short of knocking her completely out of the sky. Another flash of lightning struck, missing the ship by centimeters.

"That's it!" The Captain shouted, running a hand through his dark hair, "Zwingli, get us the hell out of this storm!"

The man with the blond bob who sat at the helm nodded shortly as he prepared to maneuver the ship above the storm.

Arthur turned to the Captain unabashed worry on his face, a protest hanging off his lips, −

"Captain, the radar is picking up a faint signal about 20 knots off the port side and moving fast!" Said the small Asian man who manned the radar station.

"Is it one of ours?" The Captain demanded

Arthur attention snapped back to the ranging sky hoping rising, as the Ensign replied, "I can't tell Captain!"

"Captain!" Arthur shouted not even trying to hide the hope and relief in his voice. Through his scope he had spotted faint and flickering, a blue point of light moving towards the Lusitania. The blue signal light of a B-82 fighter plane, two more close behind.

"I have a visual, lights moving closer Sir, there ours, but there is only three one is missing Sir!"

The planes became a fuzzy outline in his spy-glass, but he could not tell if one the remaining planes was Alfred's.

"Ensign Honda! Try get them on the radio now! Lt. Kirkland, keep on sight on them and don't lose' em!"

"Aye Sir!" They replied in tandem, though Arthur would not have taken his eyes off the sky now, even if he was held at gun point.

He only haft listened as The Captain shouted more orders, for the hanger doors to be open as soon as the fighters were in eyeshot and the landing teams to be ready for an emergency landing!

"Things are about to get hairy lads!" The Captain shouted, "Honda, what's taking so long?"

"The strom is interfering with the signal Captain; all I can get is static!" Said Ensign Honda.

The Captain swore loudly, "Keep trying!"

"Aye Sir!"

Arthur felt his heart somewhere in the back of throat, as he watched the planes dipped and bob like corks in a bathtub, and fought the winds that tried to sway them from their course. He found himself praying, something he did not do very often, he prayed that the little planes would make it, prayed that Alfred was among them, and he prayed that someone would answer the God damn radio!

"This−avo- ait-too-, Lt. –oxtort Jones, aka Cowboy, do you read−ver!" The static broken message filtered through bridge, in the strained voice of Alfred F. Jones!

Arthur breathed out at the sound of that voice, but knew they were by no means out of the woods yet, the planes still had to land.

"We copy you Cowboy, what's your status over?" Honda replied abruptly into his headset.

"−arly staying−irborn Kiku! My ra−nly ones –at's working! Requesting –ission to land ove−!"

Arthur could see them clearly through the rain now, without the use of his scope the fighters looked a bit worse for wear. This landing was going to be anything but smooth.

Kiku glanced at the Captain, who nodded assent, "Permission granted, Cowboy, Bravo-ait-too, you are a-go for landing, over!"

"Rodger−at!" Alfred's voice said, "−ittle Templar ,−ill land first, −ollowed by Holger, − 've got the most fue−eft and− land last over!"

"Holder her steady Zwingli!" The Captain shouted to the helmsman, "The second, they're clear you get us the hell out of here!"

The rain was relentless and the winds heartless, as they every crew-member on the bridge watched the fighter planes cautious approach. No one breathed, they had forgotten how. Arthur found himself praying again, but this time he simply prayed that he would be able to see those bright blue eyes and infectious smile again.

The final plane, touched down on the deck and skidded into the hanger just a few levels under the bridge. A voice form one the speaking tubes at the Captain's elbow gave the all clear, and the ship lurched as she fought the gale trying to find some exit into clear and open skies.

The second The Lusitania was out of the grip of the storm, Arthur abandoned his post (with the captain's permission) and made it to the hanger-bay in record time. Knowing Alfred, the bloody idiot would be going over the damage to the ship, never mind the damage to his own body!

The hanger was crowded with enlisted men running back and forth on errands of their own. Arthur caught a frighten young corporal by the elbow, "Where's Lt. Jones!" he snapped, in what was known amongst the enlisted men his don't-fuck-with-me tone. The corporal pointed to a small circle of men near a battered looking B-82 on the other side of the hanger. Arthur let the young man go, and had to try not to run across the hanger.

Alfred stood in the middle of a gaggle of men, his bomber-jacket about his shoulders, talking with one the mechanics about something painfully technical. But the point was that Alfred was there, blue eyes, glasses, and stupid blond hair with that stupid cowlick, alive!

"Alfred!" Arthur called protocol be damned.

Alfred caught sight of him and dismissed the mechanic as the pilot stored forward meeting Arthur half way. They embraced, not caring who saw them; the whole ship knew about their relationship anyways, one had to be blind not to see it.

"You git, don't make me worry like that!" Arthur murmured into the pilots neck.

Alfred wrapped his arms tighter about Arthur's person, "I'll try to, but I can't promise anything."

Arthur pulled away, "I'll hold you to that. Now why haven't you gone to sick-bay yet!"

"I'm fine, Arthur just a bit shaken." Alfred replied, with a small shrug.

"I don't care," the lieutenant snapped, "you just flew through a typhoon, we are going to sick-bay and you are letting them have a look at you!"

"But−

"Now, Lt. Jones!"

Alfred sighed but gave in and said in a henpecked voice "Alright, alright, I'll go."

Together they left the hanger, and once they were alone in the hallway, Arthur took Alfred's hand laced their fingers together.

"Are you really alright, y-you lost someone today?" he asked

Alfred stopped walking and his shoulders slumped, "Yeah, Bates went down, his plane it was struck by lightning, there; there was nothing any of us could do…"

The grip on Arthur's hand tighten, the pilots eyes looking a bit wet around the edge.

"Hey Arthur?" he said

"Yes love."

"I know we don't say it often but you know I love you, right?"

Arthur met the blue eyes he had almost lost today, and stood on tip-toe to place a kiss to Alfred's lips.

"Yes, and I love you too."

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><p>AN: I'd like to thank all the people who have either read, added this story to their favorites, or added this to their story alerts! It mean a lot !<p> 


	5. On Leave

The sky was a clear endless blue. There was a gentle breeze that rustled the palm frowns of the trees over head. The waves lapped gently at the beach made of the finest white sand.

It was perfect.

Lt. Alfred F Jones, knocked his wide brim straw hat forward, and pillowed his arms behind his head. The texts book example of relaxation. The hammock, he'd tided up between two palm trees swayed gently with breeze.

Leave was a wonderful thing.

Sure he loved his job, he liked being in the Air Defense Force, he liked being able to help people. But, even a hero needed a vacation.

The sun beamed down warm but not unbearably hot, just the right condition for mid-morning nap. The rocking of the hammock lulled him to sleep, his light snores blending into the general tropical background noise. Wrapped up in contentment, he didn't hear the sound of footsteps approaching. It wasn't until someone blocked his sunlight did he crack an eye open.

Alfred smiled, and the cast shadow placed his hands on his hips.

"Hey, Artie."

Lt. Arthur Kirkland, rolled his eyes and sighed at his fellow lieutenant/lover. He rooled his eyes at the sliver of a blue eye that peered out at him from under the brim of Alfred's hat.

"There you are, I've been looking for you all morning." He said trying to keep the blush from his cheeks, "I thought you wanted spend the day together," he added quietly.

Alfred knocked his hat back on his head and sat up carefully as not to dump himself out of the hammock. With his feet firmly on the sand he smiled at the green eyed man, "I know sweetheart, but you looked so sweet this morn'n I did have the heart to wake you."

Arthur muttered something he couldn't quite catch and shuffled his feet around in the sand. Alfred found himself relaxing against the fabric of the hammock.

"Also, the maid wouldn't let me bring you breakfast in bed, in fact she didn't really want me anywhere near the kitchen."Alfred shrugged, he did really understand the point of servants sometimes. But he had been raised by a mother whose favorite saying had been, "You've got two hands, put them use." Not that he had a problem with rich people. His boyfriend was technically a noble, and it was the Kirkland family that owned the island that they were on.

"I'm rather sorry about that," Arthur began sheepishly, "Miss. Pennysworth has views about men in the kitchen."

Alfred studied his fellow officer for a moment, and found something a bit−well he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he'd never been the best at reading people. Tense, that was a good word; something seemed tense about Arthur's person.

"Hey, is everything alright you look like you've got something on your mind?" He asked.

"No!" Arthur said quickly.

Alfred was unconvinced, but let the matter rest. If it was something that persisted throughout the rest of the day, then he would bring it up again. But for now, he held his arms up and open them to Arthur.

"Well, we still have the rest of the day, and the hammock's big enough for two."

Arthur smiled that small rare true smile of his and shuffle forward wrapping his arms around Alfred's neck. They hugged with the sound of waves in gently crashing against the shore. Getting into the hammock without tipping them both out of it was fun, i.e. that it was rather difficult, but after a few failed attempts both men found a position that worked.

Arthur was really quite happy curled against the pilot's side with his pillowed on Alfred's chest. He had Alfred's arms about him and the weather was perfect. They were able to exchange chase kisses, and just let the morning pass around then. Cause if he really thought about it, in their line of work moments like these where few and far between.

"Alfred?" He said at length.

Alfred hummed blissfully in response.

"You're , alright with spending our leave here, right?" Arthur asked tracing random patterns on Alfred's shirt.

Alfred looked down at him quizzically over the rim of his glasses, and Arthur continued before he had a chance to reply.

"I mean, I know you never been comfortable around, um high-class things… And staying at my family's island is a very, very, high class thing and I just wanted to make sure you weren't just going with it for my sake an−

He was cut off by Alfred battered straw hat being shoved on his head, and Alfred's light chuckle, "Arthur calm down!"

Arthur blinked up at the man who held him.

Was that what Arthur had tense about earlier? Of course Alfred was happy here, They had a whole island to themselves! No ship, no duty, no protocol to follow. Just the two of them mostly alone together!

Alfred smiled reassuringly at Arthur, "Artie, sweetheart, I don't care that your loaded, and that your family has its own island. You've never been one to flaunt it like of the other officers who come from money do! And what kind of idiot would I be if I complained about being on a private island with my lover!"

Arthur flushed and hid his face in Alfred's chest, "I know, it's just sometimes I can't help but worry…"

" I understand," Alfred replied, "But, if I really didn't want to be here, than would have said so when we were planning what to do on our leave."

His fellow lieutenant nodded, and Alfred leaned down a little to press a kiss to Arthur's lips.

"Now what brought this on all the sudden?" He asked settling back down.

Arthur looked just a little guilty as he rested his head back against Alfred's shoulder, "Um, well you see…"

Alfred didn't the like the sound in Arthur's voice. "Arthur?"

"My mother called." Arthur admitted.

Alfred cringed, it not that he disliked Arthur's mother. It's just that the widowed Lady Kirkland tended to show off her sons' significant other at endless little dinner parties; that were mostly attended by other noble ladies who loved to fawn over a man in uniform.

"She throwing another one of those dinner parties isn't she?"

"Yes she is."

"Why?" He asked, knowing that there was no getting out of it, but he had to at least try.

"Patrick, finally got engaged, she wants to celebrate."

"Ah," Alfred fell silent, letting the hammock rocked them gently, and could feel Arthur tense in his arms.

"I'm going to have to wear my dress uniform aren't I." Alfred stated more than asked in the voice of one resigned to fate that he really didn't mind.

Arthur laughed, kissing the pilot's cheek, "Mother did request it, but don't worry my older brother's engagement party is not until the end of our leave."

Alfred hummed noncommittally in response and tightened his hold around his lover. They were on a tropical island and the end of their leave was a long way away.

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><p>AN: Thank again to all who have either read, reviewed, or added to there fav's list or alerts ! Also this will be the last chapter for now I might add more stories later .<p> 


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